Flat Faced Butt Sniffer
by Solo Ensemble
Summary: Elizabeth can't believe that of all the kids in his class, her son Cameron picked a fight with Michael Quartermaine, the adopted son of the local godfather.


**Flat-faced Butt Sniffer**

Elizabeth fidgeted in her seat, relentlessly smoothing her tweed skirt with two clammy hands. Why did these chairs have to be so small? The way she was, seated in front of Headmaster Reivers's behemoth antique desk, she felt all of two feet tall. Damn bucket chairs.

He was leafing casually through a file, making sure to let her stew for a moment longer than necessary, before he set the papers down and turned toward her, tenting his fingers gravely on his desk. Next to her, Cameron stopped picking at the small hole in his only school-issued monogrammed sweater that cost more than anything she owned and lifted his sober brown eyes to those of his Headmaster's.

"Miss Webber, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me," he began, sliding a cool glance at Cameron. "An incident has occurred that required our immediate attention. I'm sure you already know of the incident to which I am referring."

She nodded, now wringing her fingers together in her lap. "Yes, I do."

"Such incidents are in direct violation of our school code and policy," the Headmaster explained, trying his best to look gentle and failing miserably. "Benedictine Academy looks down on any personal incidents between its students, and requires that swift disciplinary action be taken."

Elizabeth managed another nod, this time praying that Cameron wouldn't be kicked out. His father had attended this school, as had his uncle, and even his grandfather and namesake had once walked the grounds dressed in the navy blue pants and monogrammed sweater vests that marked the Benedictine men.

It was through the late Dr. Cameron Lewis's connections that Cameron had been offered a seat and a scholarship at Benedictine that would last through his entire secondary education, and she knew how important this opportunity was to both of them. The public schools in the area were nothing to brag about, and she couldn't afford another private school on her nurse's salary. And Cameron was only in kindergarten; he still had more then twelve years left. He couldn't be booted out at such a young age!

"I understand that boys will be boys," the Headmaster murmured, looking almost embarrassed when he caught the terrified look in the little boy's expressive chocolate eyes. "And children do fight, but the fact remains that while they are here on school grounds, we cannot permit it. Benedictine Academy has a reputation, a standing among the community. Our graduates go on to do great things. We train dignified, worldly gentleman that excel and lead, and we maintain high standards for personal conduct."

"I understand," Elizabeth replied quickly, discreetly reaching out to pat Cameron's knee through his worn dress pants. "And I apologize for what happened, I really do. He's not a bad-"

The words had slipped out without her intending them to, and the Headmaster quickly pounced on them before she could say anything else in Cameron's presence. "Of course not, Miss Webber, I never meant to imply anything of the sort. We appreciate having Cameron here and we look forward to seeing him grow and develop into a fine Benedictine man under our tutelage here. It's just that-"

"I explained that what he did was wrong," Elizabeth cut in, giving her son a look. "He knows why it was wrong, and he knows that he cannot call other children names or get into fights."

"I'm sorry," the little boy spoke up for the first time. His sober eyes met those of his Headmaster's and he inclined his head just a bit. "I am."

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.

"But Michael started it."

She hung her head.

"But he did," the little boy persisted, looking back and forth between the adults with wide eyes.

"Cameron," Elizabeth admonished. "We went through this, honey. It doesn't matter what happens: you have to solve your arguments with words."

"But I did," Cameron replied. "I called him a flat-faced butt-sniffer. Those are words."

The Headmaster covered his mouth with his hand, trying to look grave, but only because he knew that if he didn't the little boy would see his smirk and get the wrong message.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. "Cameron, we don't use bad words. We use polite words and if that doesn't work, we walk away. We do _not_ hit."

"But Michael-"

"It doesn't matter what this Michael boy did," she interrupted firmly. "If he said something you didn't like, you should have talked to him first. And if he wouldn't listen and kept saying mean things, honey, you should have walked away. It's never okay to use your fists. Do you understand?"

His lip stuck out in a little pout but the boy nodded. "Yesh."

"Good man," the Headmaster said gruffly, a small smile curling his lips. "It sounds as if you've learned your lesson, young man."

Cameron sighed and nodded. "Yes, Headmaster Reivers."

"That's good to hear," the man continued, "because I just had my meeting with Michael and his father before I met with the two of you. I think an apology is in order, don't you, Cameron?"

The little boy sighed again and nodded. "Yes, Headmaster Reivers."

Elizabeth frowned slightly. "Excuse me, Headmaster, but I don't think it's right that Cameron should be the only one to apologize. From what your secretary told me over the phone, both boys were to blame for what happened-"

He didn't meet her eyes and instead punched a button on his speaker system. "Alice? Send in Michael and Mister Morgan, please."

She was just about to continue her protest on behalf of her little boy when something else occurred to her, and Elizabeth was positive she felt all of the blood drain out of her face. "Um, did you say _Morgan_?"

The Headmaster looked up at her as the doorknob turned. "Why, yes."

"As in, Jason Morgan?" she squeaked, powerless to stop her eyes from lifting and traveling over to the tall man with piercing blue eyes that now stood in the doorway with a small, red-headed boy with a black eye right behind him.

"The one," the Headmaster murmured discreetly, quickly rising in his seat with a smile plastered firmly on his face to shake his hand. "Mister Morgan, thank you so much for waiting. I hope you weren't inconvenienced."

Jason glanced indifferently away from the man and stared at Elizabeth when he heard the young, seemingly prim mother utter an unspeakable word in front of both small boys. Behind him, Michael giggled and clamped a hand over his mouth, hiding behind his father's legs when Jason glared at him, and Cameron's jaw dropped.

"Mommy? Why'd you say a bad word?"

Elizabeth groaned and wished that a hole would open up in the floor and swallow her and the ridiculous bucket chair into the ground. Her son had insulted and beaten up the son of Jason Morgan, the unofficial godfather of the entire East Coast crime syndicate.


End file.
